In Truth

Truth, itself, lies deeper than all the capacities of which it makes use: it is, itself, the primal act of elemental selfhood, there at the root of life, before all things, where the being is yet whole and entire, a single, endless individuality, unbroken and undivided. In this embryonic singularity, Truth is the germinal act of our love for God, it is an act of the whole, there, where all is one, falling on the heart like the soft breathing of an aeolian harp, and lingering with a permanence that earthly music knows nothing of.

Do you remember,
My friend;
The infancy
Of this sublime,
And Celestial
Greatness?

Those simple, 
Innocent apprehensions;
Inexpressibly rare,
And delightful,
That we shared
From the beginning?

And that Divine Light
Wherein we were
Birthed; and bathed?
We could see,
The Living Wonder
Of all creation.

By the gift of God;
They attend
To us still;
By His favor,
We remember them
Till now.